In the year of 10,001, month of Aestus, a massive tragedy struck the Kingdom of Simul.  Many years ago, the demon that had destroyed Wish Well had continued its path of destruction to anything surrounding. The closest city was next on its list. SkyHaven. Before the sun could peek over the mountains and warm the windows of homes, SkyHaven was hit with what could only be described as...a plague of destruction. It began to destroy anything in its wake. Homes. Shops. People....Anything it could sink its power into was immediately obliterated. ...That was when the people took action. Grabbing whatever weapons they could, and preparing their spells, they created a wall that the singular demon could not break through on its own. In a bright display of agony, the demon failed. But not before the destruction had already taken hold. It had successfully taken out nearly half of the city. Still, not nearly enough for the people to give up. The demon soon disappeared, leaving SkyHaven to only tell the tales of what they think happened and to rebuild their homes.

In the year of 10,001, month of Aestus, a massive tragedy struck the Kingdom of Simul. It came in the night. While the citizens of Wish Well were asleep in their homes, the demon walked into the entrance of the city. Its eyes were set upon the complete destruction and genocide of thousands of souls. They didn't see it coming. In the quiet of night, the demon trudged inward, trapping them all behind a barrier they could not see. The fire is what woke them. The fire...then the screams. Then the wide spread panic when the people figured out there was no way to leave. The terror that ensued would forever be etched into the surface of what Wish Well used to be. For, the moment that it was over and every living soul had been ripped from its host, Wish Well's land was cursed to forever be seen as it had been destroyed that night. Many have come and tried to rebuild, or just get a peek at the ruins. The moment they turn around....it goes back into place. Wish Well has been dubbed "Haunted" by the community. The demon was never found...or so the people say.

Year 10,013 month of Dissilio The forest was quiet, and therefore, not a single soul witnessed the growth of the fifth and final Tree of Life as it burst through the center of Tranquillum. Now, though, everyone within the Kingdom knows about it.

Nivalis 10th, 10,016 BREAKING NEWS! (Taken from Simul Quarterly)(https://www.kingdomofsimul.com/forum/main/comment/f48b8847-3cc5-4f0c-abd9-13fe84684c65?postId=64801240748d4a0012bb96f7) "It has come to our attention that there was a recent attack on Dry Gulch! Witnesses say that a group of less than a dozen, but more than eight people descended upon the northern ship port of Dry Gulch and attacked a seaman. Not only was the ship burned to ashes, but the dock in which it was parked. Unfortunately, the owner, Warren Thule, was killed in the incident, alongside his wife and four children. It has also been clarified that this group of murderers did so with the use of fire magic. One witness overheard the spells being spoken by one perpetrator, while the rest were, allegedly, standing around and helping fuel the aforementioned attack. It is not clear if local authorities have caught any of the suspects, but the good people of Dry Gulch have been preparing for a witch hunt....This does not sound good, people of Simul. This does not sound good at all. This is your local News Officiant, Lynn, signing off..."

Dissilio 5th, 10,1017 Taken from BREAKING NEWS: It is my displeasure to bring the most current news to Simul. As much as I would love to not have to relay this information, it is my duty to keep you all informed and as safe as I can. With that, I must weave together the details of last night’s horrors.  Before the sun began to descend, something else fell upon our great kingdom. From what we can gather, the first attack was in Korrig. Despite the docks already having taken a major hit, it appears the assailants decided they needed to come back to finish the job. Unfortunately, the structures are a complete loss. Even worse, it has been reported that more than 20 people are still missing while the casualties are nearing the same number and injuries have topped 33.  From what we can tell, the next attack was shortly thereafter in Timberholde. Every city entrance was reportedly blown apart and virtually sealing the city inside of itself. This also included grave damage to the newest addition, the train. The station and surrounding area have been destroyed beyond repair. Casualties have reached 67, more than 40 have been injured and another 17 are still missing.  Another attack mere hours after came in the form of another explosion. This one took out the entirety of the bridge from the mainland to Curet Insula. No fatalities have been reported, but it has only been a few hours since receiving the news and searches are still in effect.  I wish I could say that I have reported everything. I wish I could tell you great people that we can recover from this. I wish I had the magic words…something to give you all hope. Unfortunately, with this last piece of information I have to bear, I cannot fathom how we are to unite. At just past 8 last night, Eleutheria and our royal family was attacked. According to the guards and surviving staff, nothing was out of the ordinary until they heard Hilda scream and then what sounded like a man being tortured. This man is assumed to be King Alfred. Apparently, shortly after, a fire broke out, causing many of the people who also lived in the castle to flee with little to nothing to the second story of the city. Still, 13 are missing and feared dead. The royal family was never located, even after the fire was quelled.  There was but a note left at the scene. This note had a confession and confessions to more crimes that were, unfortunately, confirmed this morning. The entire Fortescue bloodline has been murdered. Sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, grandfathers and grandmothers… all of the bloodline has been taken from Simul in the most horrid of ways. I cannot even begin to write what information I have been given.  Simul…please. PLEASE be safe. I know we are now living in a very uncertain time. I have faith that we will be okay. Please, look after yourselves, your families, your neighbors and your cities.  This is Flynn, signing off.

Here is the visual representation of our royal family. As they are nearly always NPCs, unless played by Silver or Lyanna (If you request to meet with them). You are free to acknowledge them in your post. If you choose to hold an Individual Continuity, you can even play then to your desire! King Alfred Fortescue. His wife, Hilda Fortescue. Their two sons, Herald and Lloyd. Image Created with Bing AI

Calor 11th-16th: Read more here 6/28 - 7/2 Simul: A kingdom of peace and coexisting. A kingdom where very few large problems occur. A kingdom where hundreds of thousands call home. But...it has one little problem. And by little problem, I mean it has a yearly issue. Simul gets crabs. TONS of crabs. Big crabs, small crabs, pinchy and mean crabs. Now, you might be asking, why are crabs during the summer a problem? Because it is not just some crabs. There are SO MANY CRABS. They take over the east and west coasts. They eat up the wildlife including, but not limited to, plants, trees, rodents, birds, crops, and even larger communities of them have been known to take out whole livestock. What does Simul do about this little yearly problem? It sends its best warriors to hunt them, of course! An extra to the hunt? You get to keep your kills. Feed your friends and family. Feed the poor. Feed everyone! And it's crab meat...so it's worth its weight in gold. Even better? Every year, the person who brings home the largest and juiciest amounts of crab gets bragging rights and the title of "Crab Commando" until they are dethroned (Meaning that if someone gets more meat in weight, they will hand the title over). Rules: 📌Each individual character can only be in one channel. Either East or West coast 📌You can have as many characters as you like join the event, but you must keep track of each of their numbers. 📌You can post every 30 minutes (Must have 30 minutes between posts) 📌There is no post minimum (You can literally just roll every time) 📌You must roll in the channel you select How to Roll: 📌You roll 1d20 for each character 📌That number is how many pounds the crab caught weighs 📌The total will be added at the end. The most weight wins! Crabs: (This is not actually what they look like. I mean, kinda, but minus the tail and horns. Those are because they are evil little bastards)

I've finally scraped the coins together to buy an empty manuscript from one of the caravans. They're entirely more expensive than I expected, though I should have expected as such-- paper, salt, even ice. Such luxuries that were taken for granted, back home. Home. It's such a strange word to use, for now that I know what it actually feels like, I should never again use it to describe where I came from. Such as also, that I should expect to be able to write whatever I'd wish to here. Everybody in town respects my privacy enough. But i'll know quickly should they read it-- The things I could write here would keep anyone in this town, likely, this realm, from looking at me the same as they did before. But I do write them anyway, because... Well because I'm free. I can do whatever I want. I've survived for far too long to only be able to say that for the last month. So for record keeping, and in case I should ever forget where I came from, I was Alice Mcleod. I resided in New York. I was a paladin under Bishop Demarco, charged with his safety in the war against the camarilla. We were the Sword of Caine. I will write no more of this, because ultimately, none of it matters. Even that. My status, is likely gone. My brethren, who knows. My sire, same. If anyone is still drawing blood out there, they likely curse my name. But for them, I am gone. And for that, I am free. Free. Free. I'm Free. but who am I? About a month ago it was, when I was dropped into the forest with such force that I broke my leg. There was a sliver of glowing light above me that flashed away moments later, and I was alone. Just moments before I'd had my sword in my hand, and was waiting behind the door for the enemy to come for-- xxXXX No more. New life. Tannerloch is what they call this place. It's filled with mortals of all shapes and sizes. Some small and stout-- Dwarves. Some Humans, some Elfs I believe they called them. It's a small town. Single main road, cobblestone. About a dozen, maybe dozen and a half buildings, counting residences. I've only met them with what I likewise was met with -- Hospitality, and friendliness. I... I have to get this out. I know their names. I have FEELINGS for them. They are FOOD. I've never looked at mortals as more than that. Ever. It was disgusting to. I'm NOTHING like i was, because I WAS NOTHING. I WAS NOTHING BUT A TOOL. HERE I HAVE A NAME. THEY GAVE ME A NAME. LIGHTFOOT. I AM LIGHTFOOT. I AM KNOWN. CARED FOR. MCLEOD IS DEA xxxXXXXxxX (There's a violent splatter of ink across the center and far side of the page, and surrounded by that splatter is the puncture mark of a quill. Words resume below it.) It's okay to lose control. It's okay to express how one feels. It's why I bought a journal. To express how I feel. To not scare off my new friends. It's healthier to write this down, than it is to potentially lose composure in front of them... Or, on them. It's good to finally have an outlet. One of Kayvin's little girls gave me the name Lightfoot. She said it fit. She said I make no noise even on the wood floor in boots. I refrained from telling her why. I simply thanked her. One day I will tell her how much it means to me, I should. I used to think...I used to think I was stoic, and strong. In the before times. Pain is easy to withstand. Emotion is not. It is only easy to detach from. But when you detach, you never grow. I never needed to grow, until now. Daryl, Kayvin's little girl, is but 9 years old. How fitting, that one so young have fruitful lessons to teach one so old as I. She saw the sadness on my face, and insisted it was okay to let it out. 'That it was healthy'. 9 years old, and she knows more about mental health than I've ever had to learn. I would die for that little girl. I am Allys Lightfoot, I have a name, I am wanted here, and I would. Xx I was worse off than I thought. I'm really, very glad that trader came through when he did. How sick and twisted would that irony have been? Village slaughtered in a love-induced rage because I couldn't handle my emotions better than a 9 year old. What would I tell the hunters? I didn't mean it? Are there even hunters here? Are there other kindred here? If they are, are they like me? Or would they be some, variant, native to this land? Planet? Space in time? I have no idea where I am, but I don't care! I am free. I wonder if this is truly why I was never allowed to write to my fancy in New York. To see how shattered my mind truly has become on paper, and how it was reforged into what it was never meant to be... without my consent, or even knowing. I hope they're dead. I'll put it right here on the front page. To whomever DOES end up reading this after I'm gone. Look objectively on this writing-- Understand that you will never understand. This book is mine. No one elses. Never in a hundred years have I ever been able to say that. So do me that one posthumous favor. Even after reading this, no matter what presumptions you make about my mental cohesion. No matter how true they may be, no matter if you see me for the predator I am or was. All you need truly know is this. I am Allys Lightfoot of Tannerloch. I no longer and will never wield my sword for any cause I do not wish to. I have taken this village under my care, it is my personal oath to keep them from harm. Alice Mcleod is dead. May she rest in peace with her service to the Sword.